


Iskra

by jenelleman



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alive Hale Family, Alpha Laura, Big Bad, Emissary Stiles Stilinski, F/F, F/M, Family, Love, M/M, Pack Bonding, Pack Dynamics, Pack Feels, Pack Mother Stiles Stilinski, Scott McCall & Stiles Stilinski Friendship, Scott is a good friend in this one, Scott’s second, Spark, Spark Stiles Stilinski, True Alpha, ansgt, friends - Freeform, sterek, supernatrual - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-09
Updated: 2018-01-07
Packaged: 2019-01-15 04:26:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 14,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12313695
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jenelleman/pseuds/jenelleman
Summary: The clinic was crowded, with both packs huddled together as Stiles stood opposite them.“Absolutely not,” Derek’s and Scott’s voices faded into each other as they spoke simultaneously.“If I go through with this, I die,” Stiles said, his voice heavy as he weighed the options. “If I don’t go through with this, we all die. There’s no question that needs to be answered, no debate that needs to be had. I’m doing this.”





	1. Don’t fall in love

Pillows splayed haphazardly across the bed, blankets strewn messily around his bedroom, only half having any semblance of actually being on the bed, Star Trek reruns playing in the background, because screw anyone who said he couldn’t like both, Stiles buried himself deeper into his mattress, pointedly ignoring the knocking coming from the living room.

“I know you’re in there,” Lydia’s voiced carried through the apartment as her knocking only increased.

He managed to pull his head off of the mattress long enough to yell back, “No I’m not!”

He heard Lydia huff out a sigh of annoyance before she announced that she was coming in. He then heard the distinct sound of her key in the lock and he just muttered out a bitter, “why didn’t you just do that in the first place.”

He knows once Lydia is actually inside of his apartment because he hears her sharp intake of breath and the way she says his name is filled with nothing but pity.

“I know Lyds,” he groans out. “I’m a mess.”

“It’s not that bad,” Lydia can hear the lie in her own voice and it’s enough to pull Stiles off the mattress.

“Not that bad?! I completely humiliated myself!” Lydia flinched at the tone in his voice, and then flinched again when she saw his appearance.

“Yes I know, I look a little worse for wear,” his voice had dropped back down to normal tones at the expression on her face. He _hated_ it, hated that she felt sorry for him.

Her voice is soft as she approaches him, “You proposed, he said no. It’s not the worst thing that’s happened to you Stiles.”

He groans as she drags him towards his bathroom, because, yes, he knows being dumped doesn’t even make the top ten list of bad things that have happened to him.

But it still hurts.

“You’re going to shower, and I’m going to clean.” She pushed him into the bathroom and shut the door behind him. “Also, we’re going out when you’re done.”

He let out a hum of displeasure at the news, but knew it was best not to argue with her. Lydia always got her way, it was just easier for everyone if you just nodded and went along with it.

Once he felt he was clean enough to meet Lydia’s standards he stepped out of the shower, towel drying off. “You can do this, she’s not even that scary,” he muttered, trying to convince himself to go and face Lydia and the myriad of outfits she’s sure to have chosen for him.

He doesn’t understand why she can’t just let him be. There is absolutely nothing wrong with his T-shirt and plaid combo. And he doesn’t understand why she felt the need to buy him new shoes every time she was out, his red converse worked _just fine_.

“You planning on hiding out in your bathroom all day,” Lydia’s voice was teasing but Stiles just knew she was sporting a glare. “I will come in there and drag you out by your ear.”

“I’m naked,” and he could practically see Lydia’s perfectly manicured eyebrow raised high above her right eye, her classic incredulous look, paired with a scoff.

And okay that was _fair_. Lydia had seen him naked more times than he could count, and only a handful of them had been when they were having sex. And they hadn’t been that since freshmen year of college, and even then it was only a week.

So yeah, him being naked, a non-factor. Which should bother him, except it was like that with all of his friends; privacy wasn’t a thing that existed when half of your friends were werewolves. While it didn’t bother him, it sure bothered everyone else and had been one of the multitude of reasons concerning his friends that Daniel had turned down his proposal.

It was kind of ridiculous that his rejection had nothing to do with Stiles himself and everything to do with his friends. But then again, _if you wanna be my lover_ yadda yadda.

After another impatient sigh from Lydia he threw the door open and met her glare with an annoyed look, “fine woman, have your way with me.”

Lydia’s glare transformed into an unamused smirk as she eyed him up and down, she let out a small laugh and turned, dismissing him with a simple, “been there, done that.”

“Ah you know you want it,” he called after her, laughing as she flipped him off. He followed after her, plopping down onto his couch as Lydia made her way into his bedroom and collected up the outfits she had picked out.

“Okay Stiles, I have managed to narrow it down two outfits and I will leave it up to you to make the right decision.” Stiles eyed her with narrow eyes, the apprehension clear on his face.

“If you already know which one is the right one, why don’t you just tell me?”

“Because I’m trying to show some form of trust here!”

Stiles merely raised his eyebrow, because Lydia never trusted him to make the right choice. At least, not when it came fashion.

Anything else? Sure. She trusted his judgment against omegas, and rogue wolves and thousand year old spirits. Yet she would never trust him to pick the right T-shirt.

It was actually kind of funny.

“Fine fine fine,” Stiles held out a hand as he muttered his compliance. “The one with the sweater.”

Stiles only knew that was the right answer because he’s 100 percent sure that he’s never seen that outfit before in his life. Which means that Lydia bought it for him, and if she was holding it out as an option, she wanted him to wear it for this particular occasion.

Lydia happily thrust the outfit into his waiting hand, “I knew you could do it.”

As he dressed himself he had to admit that the outfit wasn’t _terrible_. There was a dark button up shirt that she had paired with a maroon sweater and _damn Lydia for making him learn the difference between maroon and red._ She had chosen a dark pair of jeans and Stiles knew she was out there thumbing through his shoe collection.

Sure enough, not even a minute later Lydia was tossing a pair of dark brown boat shoes his way.

“I.. What? Lydia I’ve never, these aren’t mine? When did you buy these! Lydia!” He called after her, but she just ignored him and just continued doing whatever the hell it was she felt the need to do.

He walked out a few moments later to find Lydia doing his dishes. Which really just meant that she was piling them into the dishwasher.

“So where exactly are we going that I needed to put on a brand new outfit?”

“Jackson’s place.”

“Like his house or his bar?” Not that the distinction really _mattered_ because neither called for a new outfit seeing as he’d been to both a countless number of times.

“The bar.”

“Okay that doesn’t explain the new outfit and shoes I’ve never seen before?”

Lydia let out an aggravated sigh, one that usually meant she was done with him being purposefully obtuse. Which caused his eyebrows to crinkle in confusion, because he wasn’t being obtuse on purpose, this time.

“You’re going to mingle, meet a new person, get laid, the likes.”

Stiles’ only response is to glare at Lydia, who simply raises an eyebrow back.

“And why are you glaring at me?”

He gently raises one shoulder, “I was sort of hoping you’d just spontaneously combust.”

The snort that Lydia lets out is less than lady like and Stiles drops the glare in favor of laughing at how ridiculous he knows that he is.

“Look Stiles we both know that you weren’t in love with Daniel and that you only proposed because it felt like the next step. I’m not saying go out and fall in love actually that’s what I’m explicitly telling you not to do. Just mingle and flirt and don’t let your stupid emotions get involved.”

“My emotions are not stupid!” He had originally wanted to fight with her, but knew it was better that he conceded her point. She _was_ right after all. He didn’t love Daniel, at least not enough to want to marry him.

He needed someone who understood and wasn’t threatened by his relationship with his friends. Someone who understood when he needed to dash off in the middle of the night at his friends call; because they were Stiles’ family. They were all he had; them and his dad, and his family would always come first.

It was a pack thing. He didn’t necessarily need someone who knew about werewolves and banshees and hellhounds and the whole supernatural world. He just needs someone who understands.

So he begrudgingly nods at Lydia, make a ‘let’s go’ gesture with his hands and allows himself to be driven to The Wolf's Lounge. Yes Jackson is real clever, he knows.

When they arrive he’s pleased to note that the rest of the pack was already there which means he won’t have to fight off drunken college girls for his usual spot.

“Scotty!”

“So I see Lydia managed to drag you out of your apartment.”

Stiles eyes him briefly, “you knew she’d be able to. That’s why you sent her.”

Scott just smiled and dragged Stiles over to their table. Stiles wanted to argue the fact that he could walk himself and didn’t need Scott to literally drag him across the crowded bar. Before he could even get a word out, though, they were seated at their table and he was engulfed in the hum of chit chat coming from his friends.

He was only able to pick up bits and pieces of conversation, the flow and ebb of everyone moving too fast for even him to catch up. He had barely uttered the words, “I’m too sober for this,” before a beer was thrust into his hands. He shot a grateful smile at Jackson who just rolled his eyes and jumped into one of the conversations that were flowing around.

As he finished off his bear, he caught on to enough of a conversation to be able to insert himself in as another drink- a margarita this time- was shoved into his hand.

They were talking about a particularly interesting case that they had handled a couple of weeks ago when he chimed in. “The real treasures were the memories we made along the way,” his smile covered his whole face as Jackson glared a hole into him.

“I almost died asshole!”

“Ah yes, that’s my fondest memory,” and then he’s being punched in the shoulder and Lydia’s scolding him and Jackson muttering ‘play nice’ like she’s their mother. Which, yeah, _okay_ , she kind of is.

It’s not even two seconds later and he’s pulled into a completely different conversation; this one about the Druid’s they fought off in high school and Stiles is exhausted just talking about it. Everyone’s arguing about how it happened and what went down. They were all there yet somehow had way different versions of events.

He downs his third, no his fourth, margarita- _where do these keep coming from_ \- and tells everyone that they’re idiots. Then Lydia is pulling on his hands and Allison and Kira are behind him and they’re basically corralling him like some farm animal into the dance floor.

It’s there that he meets the eyes of what can only be described as the hottest man on the planet. Their eyes lock for only a second before Lydia is swinging him around, placing a sloppy kiss on his lips- something she only does when drunk because they are so far past that it’s not even funny- and when he turns back around the Adonis of a man's eyes are flashing blue.

“Oh fuck,” he breathes out and Lydia and Allison and Kira still in their movements, eyes questioning. “There’s another wolf in here and he’s so hot.”

Lydia and Allison are scrambling to follow his eyes but the man is gone and he’s being dragged back over to the table. Lydia is spilling the words out before Stiles even has time to register they’ve moved and her words send everyone into a frenzy.

Because the last thing they need is another wolf- omega, rouge, or even pack wolf, especially pack wolf. It didn’t matter; things had finally settled down some and they didn’t need someone screwing up the balance that had settled.

“Stiles, are you sure?”

“Well uh yeah I mean, his eyes,” Stiles struggles to think back to the eyes, but his brain is fuzzy. “Uh yeah they were doing the Uh glowing blue thingy that Ethan’s do when he’s all ‘roar I’m an angry tortured wolf’.”

“Yeah okay buddy, you’re drunk.”

Stiles lets out on noise of indignation, “no! Okay well yes, but I _know_ what I saw Scott.”

Then Ethan is in his face and he’s trying to bat him away but he’s considerably stronger than Stiles so he just grabs his hands and holds them in place. “Was he alone?”

“I mean I didn’t see any other glowing eyes floating around but I can’t say for sure arg will you let me go,” He yanks his hand out of Ethan’s grasp and stumbles backwards, right into another person.

“Oh hi,” his eyes are wide as he takes in the face hovering above him. “It’s you! You were watching me on the dance floor.”

The guy raises an eyebrow and nods, “you’re drunk.”

“Yeah you just missed the whole conversation where my friends asserted the same.”

They guy looks up from Stiles as if he’s just now registering that he’s surrounded by a group of people. He gives a slight nod in their direction and sets Stiles upright.

“Right well since you’re busy, I’ll let you be,” and super hot guy is turning around to leave and that sends Stiles flailing after him.

“Wait no did you hey!” Super hot guy turns around and faces him, raising one perfectly bushy eyebrow over the other. “Did you want something?”

“I’m going to give you my number and you’re going to call me and we’re going to have lunch.”

Stiles eyebrows shoot up, because yes this guy is super hot, but he’s also a wolf so, you know, _decisions_. “Well it’s awfully presumptuous of you to think I’d agree to go out with you.”

Super hot guys only response is to hand him a slip of paper with his number written on it and slip away disappearing in the crowd. “Well that’s disappointing,” Stiles murmured heading back to his pack.

“What did he want?”

“Are you okay?”

“What happened?”

“Is that his number?”

Stiles held up his hand, successfully silencing any further questions that were going to be thrown his way. “He wanted to ask me out, yes I’m okay, he gave me his number and told me to call him, so yes, this is his number.”

Malia was the next to speak, “do you think he knows we’re wolves too?”

Stiles shakes his head and simultaneously wiggles his fingers. “No we’re warded remember? Other wolves can’t smell you guys. Besides you’re technically not a wolf.” He smirks at her and she just rolls her eyes at his statement

“So are you going to go out with him?”

“Of course I am Allison, I’m in love,” Stiles voice is joking as he shoves the piece of paper into the pocket of his jeans but Lydia lets out a groan of frustration anyway.

“Didn’t I explicitly tell you not to fall in love?” She threw her hands up in the air, almost hitting Jackson in the face. “You never listen.”

Everyone laughs and the night goes on and Stiles forgets about the slip of paper resting in the bottom of his pocket.

 


	2. Pining

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Yeah Lydia,” Jackson chimes in, his voice sounding more calm than his growl two seconds ago would imply. “Well all know without you Stiles has no sense of fashion.”
> 
> “Come on guys,” Ethan cuts in, leaning back in his chair. “Can we at least have one civilized breakfast?”
> 
> “Jackson? Be civilized?”
> 
> Before Derek can blink Jackson has his arm pressed into Stiles throat and Derek is letting out a warning growl that has them frozen. Stiles is looking over at Derek, head cocked to the side, questioning.

Derek groaned as Erica made another corner shot. This could _not_ be happening. There was no way in hell that Erica was better than him at pool.

He had refused to believe it. Which is how he ended up here; having his ass handed to him and his dignity on the line.

Of course she had noticed when he walked in. Derek had noticed because he always notices and Erica always notices him noticing.

“Oh come on Der,” Laura cooed in his ear. “There are worse things than being forced to ask out your crush.”

“Yeah, except this guy has no clue I exist!” And this was true. Derek had become sort of a creeper when it came to Stiles; it had taken him three days to figure out his name after he had bumped into him in his sister’s coffee shop.

“Yeah because you’re too afraid to just walk up and introduce yourself,” Cora snorted. “Erica is just trying to find a way around that.”

“Or she could just let me continue watching-”

“-pining.”

The glare he shot Isaac would’ve been more threatening if his cheeks weren’t flushed pink. “ _Watching_ from afar.”

Suddenly Boyd was at his back, slapping a hand on his shoulder. “Come on Derek, you’ve got to admit this is getting a little ridiculous.”

Derek huffed and crosses his arms, “I don’t have to talk to any of you about my feelings. Fuck off.”

“Come on Der, this isn’t you,” Laura was at his side, placing a calming hand on his chest. “You don’t get attached and you don’t pine after people. You don’t generally like people. We just want to help you be with someone you actually like.”

Erica fixed him with a glare before he could argue that he _does_ like people. “We’re pack Derek. We don’t count.”

He let out a groan of frustration because of course he got stuck with a bunch of meddlers for his pack.

“Look I’ll approach him in my own time.”

“No you won’t,” the reply was unanimous and he glared at them all. He hated when they all spoke as at the same time; it was creepy and it happened way more than it should.

“Ooh cuties got some moves,” Derek followed Erica’s eyes and they landed on where Stiles was now pressed against three sweaty bodies, a contented smile gracing his features.

And Derek can’t help the low whine that comes from him as he watches the way Stiles’ body moved. It should be illegal for someone to move that way. All flailing limbs and awkward footsteps, yet, still, somehow un-fucking-believably sexy.

And then he locks eyes with him, for the briefest of moments, and he feels his breath catch in his throat because Stiles is basically undressing him with his eyes. As quick as they appear, his eyes are dragged away from Derek’s. He watches as the strawberry blonde he was with pulled Stiles’ face to hers and kissed him. Sloppy, messy, all saliva and not attractive.

But Stiles grins and laughs, and leans into it a little before pulling himself off and twisting himself back to look at Derek. Derek doesn’t even realize what is happening until Laura is pulling him away, her red eyes boring into his.

“ _Calm down_ ,” her voice is enough to make Derek’s eyes fade back to their normal color. “What the fuck was that Derek?”

“I have no idea,” Derek groaned, rubbing his hands across his face.

“Well we clearly know that you don’t handle jealousy well,” Cora was laughing and Derek never wanted to strangle his little sister more.

“Yes, thank you very much captain obvious.”

Erica jumped up from her spot on the pool table, clapping her hands together excitedly. “I have the perfect solution!”

“And that would be?” Derek raised an eyebrow at her, because Erica’s plans usually involved making him uncomfortable in some way.

“Make him yours, duh.”

“If I do that won’t the jealousy just increase?”

“Yeah, but then it’d be cute instead of creepy.” Derek was 95 percent sure he was going to kill Isaac by the end of the night.

Choosing to ignore the smug beta, he turned towards Erica, eyebrows raised. “And how do you propose I do that? We still don’t know each other.”

“Yeah, that’s why you’re going to move your ass and go over there and ask him out.”

Derek looked to where Erica was pointing and let out a groan. Stiles was surrounded by a group of people and Derek did not do well in group situations.

“Do I have to,” he all but whined. Laura came up to him and turned him towards where Stiles stood and gave him a shove.

Derek stumbles over the first couple of steps before he finds his footing, strong, steady, sure. He heard the low sounds that indicate an argument, or a serious discussion at the very least; the voices don’t sound angry, more just worried. Derek decides this is bad idea, bad time, doesn’t want to interrupt. But before he can turn and make his escape his arms are reaching out instinctively to catch a falling body.

“Oh hi.” Derek’s face pales as he recognizes Stiles’ voice. He chances a glance down at Stiles’ face and almost has a heart attack. His eyes are wide, a little unfocused, and his face is flushed, and his smile is wide. It’s unbelievably cute. “It’s you! You were watching me on the dance floor.”

He raises his eyebrows at Stiles’ slurred voice, even though it only seems to make him more attractive. “You’re drunk.”

“Yeah you just missed the whole conversation where my friends asserted the same.”

Derek looks up, his own face flushing as he sees all of Stiles’ friends watching him. He sets Stiles steadily on his feet and gives a small nod of acknowledgment to the group.

“Right well since you’re busy, I’ll let you be,” Derek turns to leave, only making it one step before he heard Stiles behind him.

“Wait no did you hey!” Something in Derek makes him turn around, and the satisfied look on Stiles’ face is almost worth whatever embarrassment he has garnered thus far. “Did you want something?”

Well, Derek thought, here goes nothing.

“I’m going to give you my number and you’re going to call me and we’re going to have lunch.”

Derek watches at Stiles eyebrows shoot up and hears his heartbeat skyrocket. _This is it he’s going to turn me down_. “Well it’s awfully presumptuous of you to think I’d agree to go out with you.”

It’s not exactly a no but Derek is still panicking so he just shoves the piece of paper with his number on it into Stiles hand and stalks away.

Derek hears Stiles mumble under his breath, “Well that’s disappointing.”

And he is only further confused by whatever the hell that's supposed mean. Was the short, weird interaction with Derek disappointing? Was Derek asking him out in general disappointing? Was he disappointed because he wasn’t into Derek? Or maybe he was and he was disappointed they weren’t still talking or didn’t really have any kind of conversation?

By the time he made it back over to the pool tables, his head was hurting him and he had a frown on his face.

“Did it not go well? Did he turn you down?”

“I.. don’t.. I don’t know?”

Cora snorted, “What do you mean you don’t know?”

“I told him he was going to call me and we were going to lunch and he called me presumptuous and then I just shoved my number into his hands and walked away. But as I walked away I heard him mutter that it was disappointing?”

“Wait,” Erica’s voice is barely containing her laugh. “You _told_ him that you were going to go out? _Derek_ you were supposed to _ask_.”

“You don’t say.” Derek’s glare causes Erica to laugh even harder. “I fucked up. He’s never going to call me.”

“Oh don’t be so dramatic. He was undressing you with his eyes, he’ll definitely call.”

“I’m not sure if you know this Cora, but attractiveness doesn’t negate creepiness.”

Laura gave Derek a soft look, “I’m sure he’ll call Derek. Don’t stress yourself over it.”

Derek just nodded but couldn’t keep the thought out of his mind. Even as Erica suggested another round of pool and he agreed, determined to beat her this time.

He also couldn’t stop himself from glancing over towards Stiles and his friends. He may have even tried to listen in on their conversations, but found it impossible over all the noise in the club.

Derek decided to leave the club after losing a couple more games of pool.

“Oh come on Der! Don’t be a sore loser,” Erica taunted from her spot tucked into Boyd’s side.

“I came, I socialized, I even talked to Stiles. I think I’ve done enough for one night.”

Erica pouted, but conceded his point and let him leave without further argument.

Derek barely made it to his bed before he was asleep, not even bothering to get undressed. He woke the next morning with a groan as his phone ringing registered in his mind. He shot up, nearly tumbling out of his bed because _holy shit Stiles was calling him._

He felt his heart literally sink into his stomach when he saw _Laura_ flashing across his screen. He answered the phone with a low whimper as she murmured out his name.

“Don’t get upset Derek.. it’s not even been twelve hours since you gave him your number. He’ll call.”

“Yeah, suppose you’re right.” Derek ran his free hand over his face as he plopped back down onto his bed. “Was there a reason you called me so early?”

“Oh yeah,” her voice took on a sheepish tone that she only used when she wanted something from him. “I need you to pull a shift at the coffee shop. I’ll pay you and everything.”

Derek barely kept the groan at bay as he answered. “No need to pay me Lo. But I am eating all the sesame seed bagels.”

Laura let out a laugh, “you’re the only one who likes them anyway Der. Thank you so much. You’re a lifesaver.”

He muttered out a goodbye to Laura before heading to do your basic hygiene things- you know, shower, brushing teeth, the likes. It was only a short half hour later and he was ready to go. He checked his phone as he left his apartment and sighed.

He had zero missed calls from any unknown number. He allowed himself to realize that it was still early and that Stiles probably wasn’t even awake yet.

Laura’s coffee shop was just a five minute walk from his apartment and Derek was grateful that it seemed to be a slow day so far as he pushed the doors open and made his way inside.

“Derek! My life saver!”

He stumbled backwards as Laura threw herself onto him, “woah there Lo, careful.”

“Right sorry,” she shrugged with one shoulder, her relief evident in her eyes. “Isaac is sick, so I’m out a baker.”

“Sick? Werewolf’s don’t get.. oh.” A weird feeling settled in Derek’s stomach as he realized what time of the year it was. Isaac's father's birthday. “Is he okay?”

“For the most part, yeah. You know how it is.”

Derek nodded, because he Yeah, he knows very well how it is.

“Anyway, I’m here Lo. Put me to work.”

Laura gave him a grin and shoved him past a bickering Erica and Cora and into the kitchen with Boyd.

“Boyd, bless his heart, keeps burning everything. He’s good for making sandwiches but not so much doughnuts.”

Boyd winced a little at Laura’s words, but let out a good natured laugh. “I told her to put Erica back here until you got here.”

“But if Erica isn’t with Cora she scares all the customers.”

Derek and Boyd laughed at Cora’s faint “hey!” from the front.

“Well I’m here now, no need to worry.”

Derek had just finished putting the mini cakes he made in the display window when he heard a familiar voice.

“All I’m saying Lydia, is that if Jackson wants me to wake up before noon after a night of him getting me drunk then he can at least pay for my breakfast.”

“Oh my god, if it’ll get you to shut up Stilinski I’ll pay for your damn breakfast.”

Derek didn’t have to look over at Stiles to know he was wearing a satisfied grin. He tried to stay focused on his next task, but was finding it increasingly hard with Stiles sitting ten feet away. He messed up the piping on the same cupcake at least three different times.

He was never a very good multitasker and was finding that listening in on Stiles’ conversation was much more important to him than getting the rose just right on this damn cupcake.

He was so busy trying to focus his attention back onto the cupcakes that Stiles’ cry of “Ethan!” had him messing up the piping for the fourth time.

He looked up just in time to see a blonde and a brunette embracing opposite of Stiles and the strawberry blonde from last night. Derek quickly puts together that the girl is Lydia. The other two must be Jackson and Ethan, though he doesn’t know which is which.

Derek watches as the pair pull out of their embrace and give each other a light kiss on the lips. His question of who is who is answered a few moments later when Stiles looks up at the brunette with a smirk plastered across his face.

“So Ethan, where’s my kiss?” Ethan rolls his eyes and sits down but Derek hears Jackson emit a growl that sounds almost animalistic, but Derek dismissed it.

They smell just fine, like humans. There’s no other weres in Beacon County. It’s just him and his pack, as it should be.

“Oh calm down Jackson,” Derek is pulled back into the conversation by the sound of Lydia’s voice. “You know the only person Stiles is into is me.”

“Yeah,” Stiles snorts. “Into your great fashion sense.”

“Yeah Lydia,” Jackson chimes in, his voice sounding more calm than his growl two seconds ago would imply. “Well all know without you Stiles has no sense of fashion.”

“Come on guys,” Ethan cuts in, leaning back in his chair. “Can we at least have one civilized breakfast?”

“Jackson? Be civilized?”

Before Derek can blink Jackson has his arm pressed into Stiles throat and Derek is letting out a warning growl that has them frozen. Stiles is looking over at Derek, head cocked to the side, questioning.

“Hey,” he speaks, voice soft, soothing. “Everything is fine over here. We’re just messing around. He’s not even putting any pressure behind it.”

As if to prove his point Stiles shoves Jackson away from him and Jackson raises his arms in a notion of ‘I surrender’.

Laura is there, apologies already slipping past her lips as she glares at Derek. Stiles is laughing, shrugging off the incident.

“It’s nice to know some places still have a zero tolerance policy for bullying.”

Laura laughs along and gives them a complimentary breakfast before she’s storming over and pulling Derek by the hem of his shirt into the kitchen.

“You need to go home.”

“Lo, no,” Derek starts, “I’m here to help. It won’t happen again.”

“Yeah, because you won’t be here,” her voice is dangerously low, but holds no alpha power, so Derek continues to push it.

“Laura I promise-“

“Look Derek you were a big help. We have enough sweets to last us the rest of the day,” she gestures the to mass of cakes filling the kitchen. “We’ll be fine. You need to go home until you can learn how to function like a like a normal human being.”

Her eyes flash red and Derek reluctantly obliges and leaves with one last apology to Laura and the hope that Stiles would still call.

He doesn’t.


	3. Hot Baker

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “So,” He said, sliding to a stop in front of Erica. “There seems to have been a misunderstanding.”
> 
> She raised an eyebrow, “Oh yeah?”
> 
> “Yeah,” he began, nodding enthusiastically.

It takes Stiles longer than he cares to admit to remember the cute guy in the bar, and even longer to find the- thankfully still intact- slip of paper with his number on it.

So long, in fact, that now it would just be weird if he called.

“Ugh Alisonnnnnnnnnnnn what do I dooooooooooooooooo,” he whined as he plopped down onto her expensive furniture. He sprawled out so that his body took up the entire couch.

“Call him,” she said, her tone bored, as she reorganized her knife collection.

“You know, you’re weirdly scary when you’re doing that,” Stiles motioned towards her half heartedly. “And it’s too late to call. Things will just be weird now.”  
  
Allison simply raised her eyebrow at him, and then shrugged her shoulders. “Fine, don’t call him.”

Stiles frowned at her, before reaching to grab one of her knives. “Ah I remember this one. This was the first piece of weaponry I warded.”

“I thought that was your bat?”

“Ah, no. I stole this to practice on before I warded the bat.”

The look she gives him is flat; a telltale sign that she is unimpressed with him.

“You could’ve done more harm than good.”

“But I didn’t,” Stiles points out, throwing the knife towards one of the many targets hidden around the room. He smiles when it hits the bullseye.

“You’ve certainly come a long way from almost killing Jackson.”

“Oh please, don’t act like he didn’t deserve it.”

Allison’s eye roll is almost audible as she gathers all the knifes back up and shoves them back into their designated safe.

“So what are we doing?”

Stiles flailed his arms aimlessly, “wasting our lives.”

“Stiles, no,” her voice is so exasperated Stiles sits up straight on the couch. “I meant for lunch.”

“Liam and Malia are waiting for us a Paula’s.”

Allison’s nose crinkled in distaste, “What about Talia’s instead? Their chicken carbonara is to die for.”

“Do you not remember me telling you and Scott about the last time I was there?”

“Jackson won’t be there this time,” she dismissed, waving her hand. “It’ll be fine.”

Stiles made a sound of disagreement but pulled his phone out to text Liam and Malia anyway. They both replied with a thumbs up emoji and Stiles just rolled his eyes.

Taila’s was everyone’s favorite place, even his. It had managed to become the hit spot for lunch in Beacon Hills in the few months since they had opened. He’d just been avoiding it recently because of The Incident. He still rags on Jackson for his total lack of ability to act like a normal human being.

Of course he’s always met with ‘I’m not human Stiles’ like he’s so clever or something.

“Come on,” Stiles is pulled out of his thoughts by Allison pulling on his arm and dragging him out of the apartment.

“What’s with you and Scott dragging me around all the time? Contrary to popular belief, I can walk, you know.”

Allison let out of snort of disbelief, “That’s debateable.”

And yeah, okay, Stiles had to give her that. He wasn’t exactly the most graceful on his feet.

As such, it doesn’t mean he particularly likes begging dragged around from place to place. Though, he is sorta terrified of Allison so power to her to do all the dragging she sees fit.

Luckily for Stiles it’s a rather short distance since Talia's is just down the street from Allison and Scott’s apartment.

They quickly spot Liam and Malia and make their way over. Stiles plops down so hard into the padded chair that it nearly tips over. Malia catches it quickly with one hand and gives Stiles a glare.

“Between the two of us, you’d think you’d be the one who knows how to act in public.”

Stiles sends her a smirk as he he lazily glances over the menu (he’ll get the same thing he always gets). “Yeah, you’d think.” His voice is filled with unbridled laughter as he speaks.

Malia just rolls her eyes and turns her attention back to the menu (again, pointless. She’ll get the same thing she always gets. None of them ever differ).

“Hi,” a voice spoke, drawing everyone’s attention. “I’m Erica and I’ll be your server for this lunch hour. Can I get you guys anything to drink?”

Stiles smiled politely at her and was taken aback by the glare in her eyes.

“Can we Uh, just get a pitcher of water for the table?” His voice was more unsteady than he’d like it to be under her glare.

He was relieved when she turned to walk away and the glare was no longer on his person.

Yes he knew that he had two weres right next to him and that if anything were to happen he had his magic and Allison’s skills to keep him safe along with the muscle. But unknown werewolves still made him anxious, okay?

And it’s not like he was alone in this feeling, as he saw Allison’s hand inching towards the knife she had in her jacket and Malia and Liam’s eyes flashing

“Calm down,” Stiles hissed, hoping none of the other weres in the building were paying them any attention. “We’ve, well I’ve caused a scene in here once already. I don’t intend to do it again. She seems polite enough.”

Malia growled but matched Stiles tone as she spoke, “She was glaring at you Stiles. If looks could kill, well, you’d be dead.”

“Yes Malia, I know,” Stiles sighed. “But a glare isn’t exactly a threat. So let’s all just chill out until an actual threat occurs, yeah?”

The three of them reluctantly agree just in time for their waiter to make an appearance. Their waiter who was apparently no longer Erica.

At their confused glances the guy smiled as he set their pitcher of water down. “Hi I’m Isaac. I’ll be taking over for Erica. She’s been deemed unfit to be around other humans today.”

Stiles shot him a tight smile as Allison poured everyone a glass of water.

“Right, well I think we’re ready to order so..”

“Right, yes, of course,” Isaacs words ran together as he pulled out his waiter's pad.

“Allison will have the chicken carbonara, and Liam will take the chicken parm, Malia just wants chicken strips, lightly breaded, no salt and she wants mashed potatoes instead of fries. And uh I’ll have the fettuccine Alfredo with grilled chicken. Man, we all really like chicken huh?”

Malia shrugged at the question while Liam nodded.

“Right,” Isaac said eyeing them weirdly, “if that’s all-“

“It is,” Allison spoke, the smile on her face contradicting the tone of her voice.

“Are you ever not going to order for us,” Liam asked as he fiddled with the paper from his straw, his gaze locked on Isaac as he walked away.

“Are you ever going to get anything different? No, I thought so. It’s just easier if I take the liberty for everyone.”

“It stops me from having to interact with people, so I’m all for it,” Malia smiled at Liam. “You’re the only one who ever complains.”

“I’m not a child, I am capable of ordering for myself.”

“We all are,” Allison cuts in, shooting Liam a look that said ‘just suck it up’. “It makes Stiles feel useful, so we allow it.”

“Hey! I am useful,” He threw his balled up straw paper at her. “Next time you want a knife warded don’t come crawling to me.”

Allison rolled her eyes as she batted away the small ball of paper.

“Do you think that they know that we know they’re werewolves?”

Stiles shrugged as he took a drink of his water, “It’s possible. I think their alpha, Laura, suspects that at the very least I know.”

“Isn’t it traditional of packs to introduce themselves to the pack whose territory they’re encroaching on? Especially if it’s going to be a permanent thing,” Allison ask as she gestures around the restaurant. Yeah, their stay was looking pretty permanent from Stiles’ point of view as well.

He just shrugged in response to her question though, “Not if they don’t know there’s already a pack here. Besides, they’re the new Hale pack that Laura started and this is technically still Hale territory since Scott never filed.”

“So the ball would be in our court then,” Liam asked in such a way that it sounded more like a statement than a question that needed to be answered. Stiles nodded anyway.

“Okay but do we really wanna alert them of our presence? The more people outside of our ward that know we’re still here, the higher the chance the hunters will come back,” Malia pointed out. And she was right, which is why no one's made a move to start introductions.

“Right,” Stiles nodded. “And, not to sound like an asshole, but if them being here draws the hunter's attention back to Beacon Hills then it’s best that they don’t know. If they don’t know, they won’t be a threat to our wards and we’ll be able to stay under the radar and hopefully the hunters won’t pick up our trail.”

“Okay but,” Liam was looking over Stiles’ shoulder at whoever was manning the counter. “If the hunter’s do come back, are we really willing to leave them to die?”

Stiles sighed and knew that Liam was right. Even if they kept up their wards and never made themselves known to the Hale Pack.. they couldn’t just leave them to fend for themselves against the hunters.

“We’ll revisit the topic if it comes up. There’s no need for hyper vigilance about this, it’ll just get us all worked up. As long as they continue to lay low they shouldn’t attract any attention.”

Allison made a sound of agreement while Liam and Malia still looked rather unconvinced.

“Look you guys,” Allison started as she fumbled around with the strands of her hair. “My father still has a few trusted allies out there, and they’re keeping their ears out for us. If there was any buzz on the Beacon Hills territory, we’d know about it way before the hunter’s got here. I think even though they’re not pack, not our pack, at least, the tree is still protecting them under the wards.”

Stiles shot Allison a look, “What do you mean?”

“Hales? Coming back to Beacon Hills? No way hunters wouldn’t be all over it. I think that since this is still their territory and the nemeton knows them, their blood at least, it’s brought them under the protection of the wards.”

Stiles body sagged, because, yeah, that sounded pretty fucking likely and something the damn tree would do. “God, I hate that fucking tree. If it stretches the wards too much, they will break. It was already a strain on them to be covering such a large distance for fucks sake.”

“I hate that we treat the tree as a sentient being,” Liam shuddered. And well, he’s not wrong. They do treat it as sentient.

“That’s because it is,” Malia growled, shooting Liam a glare. And well, she’s not wrong either. “Do we think the Hales know about the tree?”

“They, at the very least, know the history of the tree,” Stiles gave a one shouldered shrug as he made eye contact with Allison. “But they weren’t around when we gave new life to it so I doubt they know as much as we do.”

“Well let’s pray they never stumble upon it,” Liam muttered.

“Let’s hope the tree never has a need for them to be introduced.”

Liam went to say something, probably to complain about the tree being sentient again, but was cut off by the reappearance of Isaac.

“Your food will be out shortly. I just wanted to touch base with you, check and make sure you guys were still fine on water,” Isaacs smile was polite, easy.

“Oh, yeah, thanks. We’re good though,” Stiles own smile was tight and probably looked more like a grimace. Isaac never once lost the smile on his face as he nodded and walked away.

“Dude,” Liam said, once again looking over Stiles’ shoulder. “They all keep looking over here. Erica and the brunette that isn’t Laura are glaring at you but Isaac just has a look of curiosity on his face.”

“I don’t understand.. I’ve never.. oh fuck,” Stiles scrubbed his hands over his face as soon as he realized what exactly he had done to piss them off. “The dude from the bar.”

“Oh my god, Stiles!” Allison reached over and slapped him on the back of the head. “You’re an idiot.”

“Hey! It’s not like you put it together before I did.”

“Yeah, can someone please explain what exactly is going on here?”

“Okay so, you remember that night at Jackson’s? Where I saw that hot wolf?”

Understanding dawned Malia’s face and she followed Allison’s actions, only she hit just a little bit harder.

“Okay,” Liam’s voice was slow, full of confusion. “So a hot wolf hit on you and now all his friends hate you? What did you do?”

“He gave me his number and I never called.”

“Stiles!”

“Hey! In my defense I totally forgot about it and by the time I remembered..it was too.. wait,” he nearly spilled his water as he made another connection in his brain. “The guy who growled at Jackson when we came here the next day!”

“The hot baker?”

“Yeah, it was him. He gave me his number and was upset because Jackson was hurting me. That’s so sweet.”

“Yeah well you’ve probably ruined it,” Liam muttered.

Stiles frowned at that, because yeah, he probably had. He pushed his chair backwards so fast that Malia had to reach out one again to keep it from tumbling over.

“I’ll be right back. Hopefully still in once piece,” he started determinedly towards the counter.

“So,” He said, sliding to a stop in front of Erica. “There seems to have been a misunderstanding.”

She raised an eyebrow, “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah,” he began, nodding enthusiastically. “The night your friend gave me his number I was so wasted I was barely able to remember my own name the next morning, let alone that I got the number of the hottest being to walk the planet.”

“Well you seem to have no problem remembering now,” the brunette next to Erica said, her glare only deepening.

“Right well, I just remembered a few days ago, and I just found his number today. I didn’t know if it would be weird if I called since so much time has passed. I know it sounds like an excuse, but it’s the god's honest truth.”

A smirk worked its way onto Erica’s face as the bells that signaled the opening of the door chimed.

“Well well well, speak of the devil.”

Stiles turned to see the hot baker heading in their direction, a frown on his face.

“Hey Erica,” His voice was gruff, and deep, and Stiles was falling even more in love. “What’s going on?”

“Apparently there’s been a misunderstanding, and you are the hottest being to walk the planet.”

He spared Stiles a glance, the edges of his lips curling upwards ever so slightly. “Is that so?”

“Yeah, he apparently also forgot you even existed,” Cora snapped, clearly still not at all happy with Stiles.

Hot baker’s eyebrows shot upwards and Stiles fixed him with a sheepish look.

“It wasn’t exactly...that. Look,” Stiles took a deep breath as he prepared to explain for a second time. “I was wasted. I didn’t remember anything the next day. And when I finally did remember you and find your number… it just felt like it would be weird to call. I had no idea I’d be getting glares from your pack..of friends.”

Stiles cursed himself for his slip up; if he wasn’t careful, he was going to give them away long before they decided to as a pack.

“Right,” hot baker's voice held a hint of amusement along with something that Stiles couldn’t quite put his finger on. “So is this where we agree to go out and fall in love and live happily ever after?”

“Uh no,” Stiles’ voice was tense. “This is just where we cleared the air so that I don’t have to eat my meal while the twisted sisters glare holes in my back. Besides, even if I wanted to, I can’t date you.”

Oh crap. Stiles really needs to learn when to stop talking. _I can’t date you_ , way to go genius, and what are you going to tell them when they ask why.

He really should stop talking. The pack should stop leaving him alone. He needs to have a responsible adult with him at all times.

This was clearly all the packs fault, not his.

“Uh Huh,” And now hot baker was glaring at him. This was going so smoothly. “Why’s that?”

“Uh because.. I don’t even know your name!”

“It’s Derek.”

Damn. He should’ve seen that one coming, to be honest. It was a flimsy excuse at best.

“Right well also.. you’re too tall.”

“Too tall?” Derek raised one eyebrow, as if he didn’t believe Stiles.

Which, when he thought about it, was probably the case. Stiles’ heartbeat was all over the place, it’s clear that he’s hiding something.

“Yeah well I should be getting back to my friends. I see Isaac with our food so yeah bye.”

By the time he gets back to his table Isaac has retreated back to the kitchen and Allison wordlessly hands him the parmesan cheese.

Malia takes his garlic bread without asking and Liam kindly refills his water.

He gets two minutes of peaceful silence before Liam cracks, and lets a chuckle escape his lip. Malia allows her mouth to quirk upwards as she shoves a chicken tender gracelessly into her mouth.

“You’re an idiot,” Allison quips, pointing her fork at him. He sighs and ducks his head.

“Fuck off.”

 


	4. The McCall Pack is Dead.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “The McCall pack was wiped out. They were eviscerated by rogue hunters that were eventually killed by the Argents. At least by Chris and some of his allies. I.. there are no wolves in this territory anymore Laura.”

“What are they saying now?” Derek was leaned forward on the counter, his elbows bearing the weight of his upper body. He had a singular eyebrow raised at Cora as he waited for her answer.

“You know,” she said, her voice deadpan, “you could just listen in yourself.”

Derek vehemently shook his head, “No, that’d be creepy.”

“Yeah because this is so much better,” She muttered under her breath, fully aware that Derek could hear her. He just fixed her with an expectant look and she let out a put upon sigh.

“Something about some party or something or another? I think the words turkey and pumpkin were mentioned?”

“Oh,” Derek said, like he had just discovered the secret to life. “So thanksgiving then.”

Cora shot him an unimpressed look. “I’ll be in the back.”

“But I need you,” Derek whined.

“Listen in yourself. Or go talk to him. Either way, leave me out of it.”

Derek grumbles to himself as Cora disappears behind the kitchen door. He only starts paying attention to Stiles’ table again when he hears the raised heartbeat.

“Stiles,” Allison’s- Derek had been told their names by an overeager Isaac- voice is low, concern seeping through in heavy waves. The boy in question shakes his head and holds up a hand stopping her from touching him.

She continues speaking, but lowers her hand back to the table.

“Liam, call Scott.”

Stiles jerked his head up, his heart beat increasing even more- if that was possible. “No, no. I’m fine.”

Allison sighed and told Liam to hold off. Malia tensed next to Stiles when Allison grabbed his hands. He thinks he heard a low growl coming from her, but he wasn’t sure. It sounded more like a hum of disapproval.

“Malia,” Liam hissed, but she didn’t relax her posture any.

“What? This is her fault.”

Allison sucked in a breath and Derek tried to smell the chemosignals radiating off of them but was overwhelmed with so many emotions that he quickly abandoned that plan.

“I wasn’t thinking. It was a joke.”

“Yeah,” Malia snorted. “Because that's something we should joke about.”

“Okay guys,” Liam snapped, looking between the pair. “Can we focus on Stiles? It’ll do no good to argue about this.”

And Liam was right- about needing to focus on Stiles. His breathing was erratic, like he couldn’t get enough air into his lungs. And his heart was beating at an alarmingly fast pace.

“We need Scott or Lydia.”

“We can’t Malia. They’re both at work. We have to handle this.”

Malia shot Allison a glare. If Scott was at work why did Allison want Liam to call him in the first place? These people were weird.

“Hey Stiles,” Liam is speaking, his voice is calm. Allison’s face is full of surprise as she glances at Liam. “I know I don’t know what you’re going through exactly. And I know it sucks. It hurts. I wasn’t there but I know you’re scared and angry but you have to breath through it. Anchor yourself, yeah? Remember what you taught me? The sun, the moon, the truth, right? Come on Stiles, breath with me.”

By this point Malia had Stiles wrapped in her arms and Liam was holding Stiles hands against his chest. Allison set back and was looking guilty as all hell.

But something Liam had said seemed odd to him. The phrasing about anchoring himself was weird- probably just a coincidence- but still weird. And another thing -the sun, the moon, the truth- it reminded him of something his Nana used to say. She had learned it from another nearby pack they had an alliance with. She found it sometimes helped better than the Hale’s Alpha Beta Omega mantra.

_Three things cannot long be hidden- the sun, the moon, the truth._

It was weird; but Derek stands to reason that it’s not impossible that these people might know some werewolves from the pack, even if they don’t know it. He’s sure they were bleeding into Hale territory with it being unclaimed for so long.

And if situations like this were a normal thing for these people then maybe one of the werewolves thought it might help.

So yeah, it was weird. But it was also explainable.

By the time Derek pulls himself out of his mind, everything seems back to being normal. Somewhat, at least. If he tries hard enough he can smell the apprehension seeping from them. He could see the worry lines etched into Allison’s and Liam’s faces- and he’s sure Malia’s looks the same.

Stiles shoulders are hunched together, like he’s trying to close in on himself. Almost as if he wants to disappear.

Derek can hear the soft murmur of conversation coming from their table but decides it’s best to give them their privacy. Liam stands and heads to the front- Derek assumes to pay- as the others gather their stuff and stand. They wait for Cora to hand Liam his receipt before shuffling out the door- the three of them surrounding Stiles as if to protect him from danger.

“Well that was weird,” Derek jumped at the sound of Laura’s voice. She raised an eyebrow at him, and he flushed, not willing to admit that he was so focused on Stiles that he hadn’t heard her approach.

“Not really,” he shrugged, walking back to the counter. He heard her light footsteps behind him as he continued. “She said something that upset him. They’re friends. It happens all the time.”

“She sent him into a full fledged panic attack,” she muttered. “What did she even say to him?”

Derek shrugged his shoulders; he had missed out on that part of the conversation, and he totally blames Cora.

“Oh,” her head quirks to the side, a small smirk playing on the edges of her lips. “So you weren’t listening in?”

“It’s proper werewolf etiquette Lo.”

“Oh please,” she scoffs, jumping up and plopping her ass down on the counter. “Like we don’t all know you had Cora listening in for you.”

He shrugs, “She always listens in to people’s conversations anyway. It’s not like I was asking her to do something she wasn’t already going to do.”

“Yeah but it becomes weird when you keep asking me what they’re saying every five seconds,” Cora speaks up from somewhere in the back. Low enough for only other werewolves to pick up on.

“Oh fuck off Cora.”

Laura gives him a light above and a pretend scolding for his language. He, ever so politely, tells her to fuck off too. Her laugh pulls them into a comfortable silence as Derek works to rearrange the display.

“I think they know about the Supernatural world,” Laura’s voice is so soft that Derek almost doesn’t catch it. She’s trying to make sure her other betas don’t hear this conversation.

As soon as what she said registers in his mind, he simultaneously understands her reasoning for low tones and almost drops a cake.

“What,” He sputters, rather ungracefully.

“Well I mean, at the very least I think Stiles does. But logic follows that if Stiles knows about supernaturals then so do his friends. And there’s so many of them and their smells are all intertwined- they all smell the same, Derek. Like family, like pack.”

“The McCall pack was wiped out,” Derek’s brain is on autopilot. He tries to recall the way Stiles had smelled the night at the bar and even just an hour ago. He sorts through all the obvious smells, like alcohol and the bakery, that had surrounds Stiles, and finally lands on the smell that Laura was talking about. A pack has a certain smell; a unique smell. They don’t just all smell like each other, like human families do. If that were the case, other werewolves wouldn’t be able to smell that someone was in a pack.

The weird thing about the smell though, the one that cling to Stiles, was that it didn’t have the tone of wolf to it that accompanies pack smell. How could Stiles be in a pack that didn’t have any wolves.

He.. It.. what.. it made no sense.

“They were eviscerated by rogue hunters that were eventually killed by the Argents. At least by Chris and some of his allies. I.. there are no wolves in this territory anymore Laura.”

“I _know_ Derek. I can’t explain it. But you smell it right? The smell of pack?”

Derek nodded.

“I think we should talk to him. Ask.”

Derek emphatically shook his head, “You can’t just ask someone if they know about werewolves! What if he does Laura? What if he knows about wolves and was apart of the McCall pack? What if all his friends were slaughtered? What if he’s clinging to a new group of people, desperate to move on? We don’t know anything about these people Lo. None of them could have any connection to the supernatural. They could all be college friends. The McCall pack was murdered during their alphas Junior year of college- if Stiles knows about werewolves it’s probably because he survived the slaughter of the McCall pack. We have no right to dredge all that up for him. To make him relive his worst nightmare. And that’s even if your assumption is correct Lo.”

He saw Laura deflate with the sigh that left her body. She was slowly rubbing her temples as if all of this was giving her a headache (which-no. Werewolves don’t get headaches. So- what?).

“I know Der. You’re right. But we can’t just not know either. If he knows.. he could be an ally we have. No matter how painful it is Derek. It’s not like being here isn’t painful for us. We all have things we have to deal with.”

“What would you even say to him? ‘Hey I’m a werewolf and I think you might be in the know?’”

Laura snorted, “Well I wouldn’t-“

She was interrupted by the sound of the door slamming open. Cora was out of the back, half shifted, as Stiles came strolling in. He lazily glances around at the few patrons that were still in the cafe.

“Out.”

They all scrambled to their feet and made for a hasty exit, just as another horde of people filed in behind Stiles. Derek recognized a majority of them- Lydia, Jackson, Ethan, Allison, Liam and Malia. The two he didn’t recognize were stood directly behind Stiles as the others filed around them.

“So, I heard you wanted to talk to me,” his tone is light, but there’s something in his eyes that makes Derek afraid in a way he hasn’t been since the fire.

“I, uh, what,” Laura stumbles over her words, still in shock over what was happening. Not that Derek could blame her because they had literally just started discussing this as an option, but it’s not like it was exactly a good sign to have their alpha so vulnerable.

Derek knew the others felt the same way, if the way they were edging closer to Laura was any indication. Stiles let out a low chuckle, and then Laura was surrounded by a circle of mountain ash.

Derek felt himself growl and shift, and had no doubt the others were following his lead. He jerked his head as someone let out a whine.

“Stiles,” Derek placed it as the floppy haired boy that stood directly behind Stiles. One of the two people he didn’t recognize. “Come on. Remove it.”

“What? No. It’s purely precautionary. It’s Druid keyed mountain ash. I’m the only one who can break it. They’re not going to do anything to me or any of you as long as I have their alpha trapped Scott,” Stiles voice was hard and Scott’s eyes glowed red, which sent a whole new panic through Derek because how the hell is Scott McCall still alive. “No Scott. This is non-negotiable. This is the safety of our pack and I’m not risking it.”

“I don’t think they mean any harm-“

Scott’s voice was cut off by Laura’s, who sounded way less panicked than he felt.

“We most certainly do not mean any harm.. we.. I.. what’s going on? How are you all still alive?”

The pack shuffled uneasily behind Stiles and Derek saw a wall of energy in front of them in times with Stiles’ flinch. “That’s not any concern of yours. What matters is we are alive. And you being here threatens that.”

“What?” Wow, Laura was certainly winning all the awards for most competent alpha at the moment.

“The nemeton wants to protect you. My wards aren’t strong enough to handle this many people.”

“So make them stronger,” Cora’s voice snapped from behind Derek. Stiles let out a humorless laugh, his eyes zeroing in on Cora and a smirk taking over his features.

“Oh, if only it were that simple.”

“Wait can we back up.. nemeton?” Stiles eyes traveled over to Laura as she spoke. “I.. The nemeton is dead.”

Stiles let out a sigh, one that reeked of exhaustion. Stiles waved a hand and the mountain ash barrier around Laura disappeared. “I’ll assume we can all play nice.”

Derek felt himself shifting back to human as Laura made eye contact with him. It was brief and his eyes were back on Stiles in a matter of seconds. Stiles who had collapsed against Scott and Allison, his eyes closed and breathing shallow.

“What did Allison mean when she said it wouldn’t be the first time you’d killed her,” Cora’s voice is simply curious, but that doesn’t stop Stiles from putting up the wall of energy that Derek had briefly seen earlier. He could recognize it as a shield- Stiles felt he needed to shield himself and his pack from them.

That’s not what Derek wanted, and Laura’s warning growl indicated that that’s not what she wanted either. Cora simply shrugged and trained her eyes on Stiles.

“I.. It was in poor taste,” when someone finally spoke, it was Allison. “It wasn’t Stiles.”

“So wait.. you died?” Laura’s voice is confused, not that Derek can exactly blame her because..what?

“Well, it didn’t stick.” The uptick in her voice made it seem more like a question rather than a statement.

And before Derek could comprehend anything, he heard himself speaking.

“Stiles killed you.”

He watched as Stiles flinched from his spot against Scott, and his eyes flew open, shinning lavender.

“No, no that’s what I was saying,” Allison began, but was cut off by all the dishes in the place deciding to levitate in mid air and Stiles voice.

“No. Let them think what they want Ally. They’re not wrong anyway. I killed you.”

There was a deafening crashing sound as the dishes made impact with the ground and Derek could feel Laura’s glare on him. What was even happening right now? He felt like his brain wasn’t working properly. Everything seemed fuzzy and nothing was making any sense.

“No,” this time the voice belonged to Lydia. It was sharp and angry and tired, like they had this conversation a hundred times over. “You didn’t kill her. It wasn’t you.”

“Well it looked like him.”

“Malia,” the other one Derek didn’t recognize, she was tiny and Japanese, and her voice was completely horrified.

“What? We all know it wasn’t him, not really. But he can say it was him, and give off no indications of lying because it was him. A version of him. Void, yes. But we’re already confusing these Hale’s without the game of ‘how are none of them lying, even though they’re contradicting each other’.”

And she had a point; this was becoming increasingly frustrating because nothing any of them were saying indicated they were lying. So either they were really good liars, or well.  
  
“Well like Stiles said,” Scott murmurs, “it’s none of their business. They weren’t here to defend their land. We did what we had to do.” Scott directs his attention over to Laura before speaking again. “Not to offend you or anything.”

“Look,” Stiles is speaking again, his voice empty of any of the hardness it held before. “We can all get into that another time. I will very unhappily answer any and all questions. But there’s a reason I sought you out first. Cora was right. I need to strengthen the wards. I can feel them breaking.”

“What happens if they break?” Derek almost jumps at Erica’s voice, and he thinks that that’s got to be the longest she’s ever stayed silent.

Stiles shrugs at her question, “Well two things will happen, either simultaneously, or at the very least, in rapid succession. One, the hunter’s who lost our trail and the ones who lost your trail will pick it up again and descend on Beacon Hills causing an actual massacre of not one, but two packs.”

So the wards were for hiding wolves in Beacon Hills. That explains why they couldn’t smell them.. they’re clearly warded against it. This pack is very smart, and Stiles must be very strong to be able to do magic like this. He remembers his old emissary Deaton not even being able to do anything of the sort; he said he never mastered cloaking spells and that he wasn’t all too interested in learning. Old dogs and all that.

He wonders if Deaton was still around.

“And the second thing,” Laura questions, her brow creased in worry. Derek notices all of Stiles pack stiffen and takes special interest in Lydia’s death like grip on his hand.

He smiles, an empty, haunting kind of smile.

“Well that’s easy. I die.”

 


	5. And the Pain Rages on

Malia was facing Allison with a glare, arms crossed in front of her, and a frown on her face, when Stiles’ phone  
rang.

“Hey Scott, your fiancé is the worst, just so you know. I hate her.”

Scott lets out a nervous chuckle, “Yeah man. You said as much in your text. What’s going on?”

“Oh well nothing much,” Stiles shrugged, sounding nonchalant. “Just has a panic attack at Talia’s. And then had to stop Malia from killing Allison. So you know, just another Tuesday afternoon.”

“Jesus Christ,” Scott sighed and Stiles heard shifting in the background. “It’s going to be slow the rest of the day, I’m sure Deaton will let me sneak out early.”

“No Scott it’s-“ Stiles sucked in a breath through his teeth as a wave of pain blew through his lower abdomen.

Malia abandoned her staring contest with Allison and rushed to Stiles side, batting Allison away when she tried to move to his other side.

“I’m fine,” Stiles breathes out, shoving them away. “Like I was saying Scott, everything is- ahh, yeah that hurt,” Stiles’ voice was barely a whisper as he continued to groan in pain from his new spot on the floor.

Malia and Allison were both by his side, his call with Scott forgotten as he let out another cry of pain.

“Something,” He breathed out between cries of pain, “Something is wrong.”

He didn’t know what exactly was wrong- besides the burning pain that was eating its way through his organs- but something didn’t feel right. The room felt charged with static electricity.

He felt as if he were in the eye of a storm; and then there was the goddamn pain.

“I, Uh,” Stiles’ breath shudders as the pain weaves his way through his body. “It’s eating me. They.. they’re breaking.”

“What’s breaking Stiles?” Allison’s voice is firm and grounding.

It gives him an anchor to hold onto through the pain, something else to focus on. Maybe if he focuses hard enough he can will the pain away; he’s done it before. It just takes concentration and-

“Stiles!”

He jerks at the sound of Lydia’s voice- when did she even get here?

“What’s going on?”

He tries to answer but the pain has worked it’s way up into his throat and has eaten through his vocal cords apparently. He barely manages to huff out “the wards” before he feels his brain exploding from the pain.

His vision fades slowly, Black dots appearing over everyone’s faces before completely blocking them out. He tries to hear what they’re saying over the ringing in his ears but comes up short.

The harder her focuses the louder the ringing gets, until he’s met with silence.

He figures he must’ve passed out because when he comes too he’s no longer laying on his plush carpeting; he is instead on the cool sleek metal exam table that he is really too familiar with.

The second thing he registers is the soft whispers buzzing around the room; the ones that mean everyone is here.

“You’d think with how many times we end up here you’d keep something more comfortable stored here,” He croaks out, bring all conversations to a screeching halt.

“How nice of you to join us Stiles,” Deaton says, his voice light in spite of the pain Stiles is feeling.

“Yeah, well it was either this or death and you all know how much I enjoy being alive.”

“Yes so much so that you seem to forget that you can die as you throw yourself into danger once again!”

Stiles flinches at Scott’s voice, But is confused at his anger. “Uh...what? I didn’t do anything..”

“We told you that tying yourself to the wards was dangerous!” Stiles watched as Scott’s nostrils flared; he was an easy read, he was angry. Stiles felt his defenses rise and couldn’t keep his own annoyance out of his voice.

“And I told you it was the only way!”

Scott’s eyes flash red, but Stiles doesn’t back down. He did what he had to do; it was either power the wards with his life force or have everyone he cares about slaughtered like cattle.

He’d make the same choice a thousand times over.

Allison stepped up, placing herself between the pair. “Listen guys, what’s done is done. We can’t undo it, we can’t change it. All we can do now is fix it before…” she trailed off, glancing over at Stiles, who was now leaning back against the table.

“You can say it,” he winced as another round of dull pain shot through him. “Before I die. If we don’t fix this, I die.”

-

They were standing awkwardly outside of the cafe with Scott listening in on the wolves that resided inside.

“They’re talking about you,” Scott murmured, nodding towards Stiles who was leaning heavily against Jackson.

“About how ruggedly handsome I am? Is he in love with me yet?”

Scott fixes Stiles with a glare and Stiles just grinned cheekily back at him.

“They want to talk to you. Ask if you know about werewolves and stuff.”

“Hmm, can’t say that I do.”

Scott fixes Stiles with a look ad Lydia grabs his arm and yanks him around to face her.

“Stiles this is serious. This could be our lives. You know what happens if those wards break.”

“Yes,” Stiles hisses back, loud enough for Allison to hear from her spot further from Stiles. “I understand what is at stake here. But I’m telling you I could fix it without letting people we don’t trust know we are alive!”

“That could kill you,” Malia muttered rolling her eyes. “That was never a viable option. All we need is their cooperation and then you can take away their memories or something.”

“I can’t.. Messing with people’s memories is a dangerous thing. You never know what you’re taking from them. You just kinda dig in and hope it’s the right thing. That’s not a viable option either.”

“Fine, then we better learn how to trust them, and fast,” Scott declared, pushing Stiles inside.

“Fine,” Stiles muttered, walking towards the door. He would go in and spill their greatest secret to a bunch of random wolves, but he was going to do it his way.

Once he reached the door he flung it open using his magic and he heard Scott let out a long suffering sigh from behind him.

He briefly surveyed the cafe and recognized Mrs. Johnson, the crazy cat lady, and Mr and Mrs. Stevens.

“Out.”

They all scrambled to their feet and made for a hasty exit, just in time for the rest of his pack to enter in. He briefly wonders how intimidating they look and is briefly glad that Theo, Corey and Mason are still away at School.

“So, I heard you wanted to talk to me,” he keeps his tone as light as he can while also sounding threatening. He may be using his magic to release the scent of rage into the air hoping that it will help him seem more intimidating.

“I, uh, what,” the one Stiles places as Laura stumbles out. Stiles has to fight to keep the grin off of his face. He has the Hale alpha right where he wants her; caught of guard, confused, and slightly afraid.

He’s so focused on Laura he almost misses her betas advancing on him and his pack. In the time it takes him to blink he has Laura in a circle of mountain ash. The betas all shift but freeze in their steps. They let out low warning growls but Stiles is unconcerned. He has their alpha.

Check and Mate.

“Stiles,” Scott’s voice comes from behind him, sounding more whiny than alpha like and Stiles lets out a snort. “Come on. Remove it.”

“What? No. It’s purely precautionary. It’s Druid keyed mountain ash. I’m the only one who can break it. They’re not going to do anything to me or any of you as long as I have their alpha trapped Scott,” Stiles voice was hard as he replied to Scott, hoping to convey how serious he was. He wasn’t going to take any risk with so much at stake, even with Scott trying to pull alpha rank. He could already see them putting together the pieces of the puzzle. “No Scott. This is non-negotiable. This is the safety of our pack and I’m not risking it.”

“I don’t think they mean any harm-“

Scott’s voice was cut off by Laura’s, who managed to sound calm even though Stiles knew she was anything but.

“We most certainly do not mean any harm.. we.. I.. what’s going on? How are you all still alive?”

Stiles felt the pack shifting closer behind him and he involuntary flinched at the question. He barely kept the smile off of his face though when Laura’s eyes widened slightly at force field. “That’s not any concern of yours. What matters is we are alive. And you being here threatens that.”

“What?” Stiles watched as Laura’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“The nemeton wants to protect you. My wards aren’t strong enough to handle this many people.”

“So make them stronger,” a voice snapped from behind Derek. Stiles thinks that it’s Cora, the youngest Hale who had survived the fire. Stiles couldn’t stop his eye roll as he let out a humorless laugh.

“Oh, if only it were that simple.”

“Wait can we back up.. nemeton?” Stiles averted his attention back over to Laura, who now seemed even more so confused. “I.. The nemeton is dead.”

Stiles eyed Laura before letting out a sigh. He just wanted to keep his pack safe, but maybe this would be easier if he didn’t have Laura trapped in mountain ash. He took a deep breath to prepare himself for the giant leap of faith he was about to take.

“I’ll assume we can all play nice.”

Stiles watched as the betas all shifted back to their normal form as their alpha made eye contact with them. He felt Scott and Allison at his back and realized that they were the only things keeping him upright as another wave of pain swept through him.

“What did Allison mean when she said it wouldn’t be the first time you’d killed her,” Stiles’ eyes flew open at Cora’s words and he put the shield up in front of his pack. He felt his energy draining faster and faster the more he used his magic but he wasn’t going to be caught off guard. Not again. He was going to keep his pack safe.

He faintly heard Laura growl and it took him a minute to realize that it wasn’t aimed at his pack, but at her own Beta.

“I.. It was in poor taste,” when someone finally spoke, it was Allison. “It wasn’t Stiles.”

“So wait.. you died?” The confusion in Laura’s voice is clear, not that Stiles can really blame her.

“Well, it didn’t stick.” Stiles nearly facepalmed at the questioning tone in her voice. Boy, they were probably confusing the hell out of this poor pack.

“Stiles killed you.”

Stiles felt Scott steady him as he flinched at Derek’s voice. He let his eyes open of their own account and found Derek watching him intently.

“No, no that’s what I was saying,” Allison began to speak but trailed off as things began to levitate around her. She let her eyes trail over to Stiles as he started to speak.

“No. Let them think what they want Ally. They’re not wrong anyway. I killed you.”

Stiles let the dishes drop to the ground as he finished speaking. The noise they made as they all shattered into pieces left a dull ringing in his ears.

“No,” Lydia grasped at Stiles’ arm as she spoke. Her voice held a certainty as she spoke, reminding Stiles of all the times before when they’ve had this exact conversation. “You didn’t kill her. It wasn’t you.”

“Well it looked like him.”

“Malia,” Kira’s horrified voice came from somewhere behind Stiles and he had to smile. She was the only one who was still affected by Malia’s bluntness and it was ridiculously adorable.

“What? We all know it wasn’t him, not really. But he can say it was him, and give off no indications of lying because it was him. A version of him. Void, yes. But we’re already confusing these Hale’s without the game of ‘how are none of them lying, even though they’re contradicting each other’.”

And well, she wasn’t wrong. The whole thing was confusing even to him. He killed Allison but not really because she’s not dead plus it wasn’t really him. And he would love to explain it all to them, but now wasn’t really the time.  
  
“Well like Stiles said,” Scott murmurs, “it’s none of their business. They weren’t here to defend their land. We did what we had to do.” Scott directs his attention over to Laura before speaking again. “Not to offend you or anything.”

“Look,” Stiles decides that it’s time to get back on track as another wave of pain hits him. “We can all get into that another time. I will very unhappily answer any and all questions. But there’s a reason I sought you out first. Cora was right. I need to strengthen the wards. I can feel them breaking.”

“What happens if they break?” The one Stiles remembers as Erica, their waiter from earlier, speaks up.

He gives a half hearted shrug at her question, “Well two things will happen, either simultaneously, or at the very least, in rapid succession. One, the hunter’s who lost our trail and the ones who lost your trail will pick it up again and descend on Beacon Hills causing an actual massacre of not one, but two packs.”

“And the second thing,” Laura questions. Stiles feels everyone stiffen simultaneously and Lydia’s grip on his arm tighten.

He smiles, an empty, haunting kind of smile.

“Well that’s easy. I die.”

“Which isn’t going to happen, because you guys are going to help us fix it,” Lydia’s voice is tight as she speaks and she doesn’t loosen her grip on his arm.

“Uh okay,” Laura shrugs, “whatever you need from us. We would also like to stay alive so yeah.”

“Blood,” Stiles supplies helpfully, causing their pack to stiffen as well. “I just need a drop of everyone’s blood for DNA purposes for the spell I have to do,” He further explains.

“Is that it?”

“For step one, yeah.”

Laura nods and looks like she has more questions. She doesn’t get to answer them because Stiles lets out a scream of pain.

There are suddenly four different werewolf hands on him draining the pain away before Laura can even ask what’s going on.

“As you can see,” Scott says, “we need to get a start on this sooner rather than later. So if you could go ahead and get us that blood that’d be great.”

Laura’s eyes widened and she nods hastily, “Yeah yeah, of course. Fingers everyone.”

She grabs a cup that managed to not get broken from the ground. She quickly extracts a claw from her finger and uses it draw blood. Her betas follow suit and once everyone has dripped blood into the cup she quickly hands it over.

“Just let us know whatever else you’ll need from us.”

Scott gave her a small smile, “you’ll just need to be at the ceremony when he actually performs the spell. And there’s a couple of things you’ll have to do there. But it’s nothing major really. He does all the work seeing as it’s his life force powering the spells.”

“Uh right, okay. We’ll be there.”

Scott nodded and helped Stiles to his feet.

“It has to be on the next full moon. And it’ll take place at the nemeton,” Stiles speaks quietly, holding Laura’s eyes. “I know we don’t have reason to trust each other and you’re really confused and concerned right now but I promise as soon as I have this fixed I’ll explain everything and we can work on building trust.”

Laura nods, a smile working it’s way onto her features for the first time since he’s entered the cafe.

“It was nice to meet you guys, I’ll see you soon.”

And with that he led the pack out the cafe. They walked in silence for a few blocks and when they were far enough away Lydia let out a deep sigh.

“Well that went about as well as it could have.”

“At least no one got hurt,” Kira smiled, ever the optimist.

Everyone nodded in agreement, and Stiles felt a laugh bubbling up inside of him. Shortly after he let out deep bellied laugh everyone else followed suit.

And there they stood, laughing on the side of the road unaware that they were being watched.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I’m so sorry that this took so long to update but I was suffering through a major case of writers block and had to force myself to sit down and write this chapter. And i’m Sure it sucks and I do apologize for that. But I hope you enjoy it anyway!
> 
> Who do you think it could be watching them from afar???

**Author's Note:**

> Incase anyone was wondering, I changed the name of my story from Scintilla to Iskra. Iskra is spark in polish. I liked that better for obvious reasons


End file.
